


Taking Flight

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: Klaine Advent 2016 [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Parenthood, movie star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 11:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18755746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: Cooper's dare changes their life forever. Blaine finally gets some use for that Nightbird costume (outside of fetish clubs, that is!). Written for Klaine Advent 2016 prompt Dare.





	Taking Flight

“What?” Blaine’s voice rose. “You DARE me? Coop, when was the last time THAT worked on me?” 

Kurt, drawn to the door of their bedroom at his husband’s raised voice, planning on rescuing Blaine from another of his brother’s harebrained schemes, hovered instead. 

Blaine frowned, listening intently, then scrabbled at the bedside table for paper to scribble a note. “Really? Holy shit…yes, yes. I’ll have Kitty call.” 

Kurt’s eyes widened at the mention of their agent’s name. He was actively eavesdropping now, trying to hear what Cooper was saying, but his brother-in-law’s voice was just a tinny murmur in the room, one that Blaine spoke over. Blaine looked up to meet Kurt’s eyes, but Kurt could read no clue but restrained excitement in them. “Ok. Ok. I’ll—maybe I’ll think about it. I have to talk to people…yes, PEOPLE! Like my husband, remember?” 

He ended the call and sat back, his hands pulling at his curls, ruining their careful styling. 

“You okay? What do you need to talk to me about?” Kurt asked, sliding into the room, dropping the dish towel he’d been carrying onto the bedside table. He knelt on the edge of the bed, reaching out to knead the back of his husband’s neck. 

“He—um. He says he’s arranged for me to—well, I guess not _audition_ actually—but… What do they say in LA? Take a meeting? Yeah. Take a meeting with this guy at the studio.” 

“What for? And how? Who does _Cooper_ know?” 

Blaine’s eyes were round. “It’s—well, it’s a story, is what it is. You know the new Batman they’re casting? The _Nightwing_ movie?” 

“Can’t say that I do, but clearly YOU do.” 

“Kurt!” Blaine turned to face him fully. Oh. He was excited, practically trembling with it, but shying away, too. This was big. “Well, he went down for it, and—I don’t know _what_ happened exactly. You know— “ 

“It’s Cooper,” Kurt said. 

“It’s Cooper.” Blaine’s laugh was diffident, rueful. “He somehow had a photo of me in my Nightbird costume.” 

“From high school?” 

“Yeah. Can you just imagine?” 

“Showing up to an audition— _‘Yeah, I’m gonna read these sides, but first, here’s a 10-year-old pic of my kid brother.’_ ” 

“Crazy, right?” Blaine’s eyes were shining. 

“But it’s Cooper. Crazy is…” 

“Just part of the package. Anyway, someone in casting got a good look, realized I was THAT Blaine Anderson—turned out she saw the Tony broadcast.” 

“You were WONDERFUL that night,” Kurt said, taking Blaine’s still shaking hands in his. 

“Cooper asked me if it was true that people actually WATCHED that show.” Blaine shook his head. 

“And?” 

“They—well, HE—wants me to test for—for Nightwing, Kurt.” His voice had dropped to a hoarse, unbelieving whisper. 

“Wait. For the LEAD? In a blockbuster comic book movie?” 

Blaine nodded, his eyes wet. 

Kurt jumped up, pulling Blaine with him. “Okay, then. What are we waiting for? Let’s get Kitty on the phone! And we need to figure out flights, and see who can put you up while you’re out there, and—” 

Blaine scrambled off the bed, laughing as his shoes caught in the comforter. Oscar the Siamese, who’d been sitting next to him, tail twitching, hurtled off the bed, almost tripping Kurt and zipping down the hall to disappear behind the curtain doorway of Mary Grace’s alcove. “Wait, wait. I—I wanted to talk with YOU first.” 

“Blaine. What’s there to talk about?” 

“C’mon, Kurt. There’s lots to talk about. Like, what if I DON’T get it? Am I gonna be okay?” And when Kurt scoffed at that— “Ok, then, how will the shooting schedule affect our other projects? And, like, will I have to travel to do promos—you know the answer to that is yes. What does that mean for Gracie—how long will her Papa be away? And,” he said, catching up to Kurt in the hallway and tucking his arms around his husband’s waist, “how will this affect YOU? Is it fair to you, when you _know_ you could be heading into previews for this show—or what about later? What if there's more? And we have to deal with schedule stuff for your next show, and the next, or…” 

“But, this could be your big break…” 

Blaine dropped his arms. “Is this the part where you just hand-wave away all my worries and pretend that everything will magically fall into place?” 

Kurt collapsed back against the wall of the hallway, chagrined. He reached out and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “Okay. I’m excited, and I have to say, you know I’m a sucker for red carpets. So it’s possible— “ 

“Possible?” Blaine shook his head, chuckling. 

“Well, then, _probable_ that I’m getting ahead of myself. I still think we should call Kitty, and get the ball rolling that way.” 

“And then we’ll talk?” 

“And keep talking. You’re right; this will mean a lot of balancing and adjusting. Maybe I don’t take that Marius role in the _Les Mis_ tour. Or we have to have one of MG’s birthday parties at Cooper’s in LA. Or—I don’t know—we live THERE sometimes.” 

Blaine looked all around at their tiny apartment, and Kurt followed his gaze, taking in the toys warring for place with Playbills, script treatments, and music composition books. Suddenly it felt like change was just barreling toward them. Blaine’s voice was restrained. “We’re doing this?” 

“First we’re having dessert—a nice cup of coffee and some cheesecake. And—okay, we take a few deep breaths and sit with this. And then we’re calling Kitty.” He strode confidently into their little kitchen, Blaine following. 

As Kurt got the cheesecake out of the fridge, Blaine went to set the table. As he reached up to pull the nice dessert plates down from the high cabinet, Kurt turned and hummed in appreciation. 

“What?” 

“Just picturing that ass of yours in Superhero tights.” 

Their laughter brought Mary Grace out from her bedroom alcove and away from her dolls, the cat trailing after her. “Cheesecake? Are we havin’ a tea party, guys?” 

Blaine swooped her into his arms and held her tight. “Yup. Just us guys.” 

“And Oscar?” she giggled, as the cat leapt up onto the seat beside her and her Papa. 

“No cheesecake for cats. He’s lactose-intolerant,” Kurt mock-scolded. 

Blaine plopped the 4-year-old in her seat and leaned down to whisper to her, “You know those big words just mean Dad doesn’t—” 

“Share cheesecake with cats!” she yelled. 

Kurt caught Blaine’s eyes over her head and offered his widest, most calming smile, his own heart pounding. It wouldn’t be real until after Kitty talked to the casting director…until after Blaine…but he could feel it. Change was coming again. He vowed to do his best to keep them on an even keel, even as his head spun with all the implications and arrangements in store. He thought that maybe it might be time to check with his old therapist, Len, go over some strategies for keeping his head—and for keeping all of them healthy—through these changes. 

He poured the coffees and Gracie’s “steamed milk” and carried them to the table. They were doing this, then. He patted Blaine’s hand as his husband dished out the cheesecake. “You know what? I think later tonight might be a good time to give Sam Evans a call.” 

The sudden excitement that bloomed in Blaine’s eyes at that suggestion was all the answer he needed.


End file.
